Home is where the heart is. We, the ones who are born in the East, we are always there in our dreams. We just cannot forget those early years. We were never sick and we never felt tired. We had to live in sweltering heat and we had to endure cold winters, but it was home. Our native village was like paradise. The air was better, there was fertile soil and pure water that came from the high mountain.

We had a good life. We could laze around, we tasted fresh fruit and we worked when we felt like doing so. We were young and the whole world was ours. One night we went up the mountain to fetch wood. We were singing loud and clear and everywhere around us we heard the echo and above us we saw all those stars glittering in the dark. Man, we felt as strong as the rocks of the mountain. Nothing could bother us. We were free!